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The Bet by John Carter
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The bet : Pt. 2
His hands continued to tease her breasts. Each contact
came as a surprise because fo the blindfold. The warmth in her
stomach kept moving lower. Two things were happening. Her mound
was crying out to be touched and, even without a touch, she could
feel an orgasm building.
She wanted to cause some friction on her sex. Her feet
were tied apart so well that this was impossible. Without a
thought on her part, her hips began to move. He seemed to know
how close she was. He would slow down or remove his hands
whenever her orgasm began to approach too quickly. She loved the
delicious tension of it.
He placed the flat of his hand on her stomach just below
the ribs. Spreading his hand out as far as he could he slowly
began to move down her abdomen. His hand had not even reached
her pubes when she began to come. She was fairly quiet, but she
knew it was obvious to him what had happened.
All contact ceased. She spent a moment waiting for him
to begin again. The cold drop of water fell on the edge of her
slit. For the next few seconds all of her senses were
concentrated on her sex. The second and third drops accentuated
it.
He began rubbing her stomach, his hand coming dangerously
close to her sex, but never actually doing more than brushing the
top of her pubic hair. Again she felt her hips begin to move.
She had expected that it would be easier to hide what he
was happening to her body because of what he was doing to her.
Her body was betraying her again. When his hands began to rub
the inside of her thighs, she began to moan again. He kept
approaching her sex, but not quite touching it.
He shifted position, she could feel the bed depress
beneath her. He was between her legs. She felt his hands
sliding up and down her thighs. He was rubbing, firmly but
gently, the inside of her thighs, beginning at the knees. His
hands massaged the muscles beginning just inside her knee,
progressing slowly up her thigh.
When he began, his hands barely went half way up her
thigh. She was amazed at how much this focused her attention on
her sex. Each time his hands came a half inch closer, she was
terribly aware of the closer intrusion. She tried pulling her
knees together, but she was bound too well. She couldn't help
herself. She tried several times, reveling in the contact and
the inability to protect herself from his attentions. When he
had closed to within inches of her sex, she found herself trying
to stretch down to meet his fingers as they rose higher. She was
doing it for the third time when she became aware of it.
When his fingers finally touched her sex, she found that
she was embarassingly wet, and very near orgasm, having been
touched only once.
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